


Pressed Flowers

by sunwashigh



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwashigh/pseuds/sunwashigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random shipping stuff</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daffodils

She worked herself too hard. Before he retired for the night, he made an effort to check on her. Her head hung low over paperwork, letters from diplomats. They had their ideas about Hollen and the Inquisition in general. While he heard rumors, she read the opinions daily. He wondered how she dealt with that stress so elegantly. 

Hollen dealt with the stress by going to the tavern sharing a whiskey with Dorian and sometimes Iron Bull. They’d get hammered and then made their way to the Inquisitor’s room, talking until they passed out. Sometimes they talked about the Inquisition, other times the Free Marshes versus the Imperium, and beyond. Before he decided to be faithful to Josie, the two would share forgotten kisses.

Tonight was no different. Hollen spent his time relaxing in the garden, watching as sisters and scholars interacted with suspicion of the other. The sisters weren’t quite happy with his choice of making the garden into a garden instead of a chantry. However, he would use the herbs that grew more than he would sisters and mothers squawking around.

The daffodils were blooming nicely near the elfroot he planted. His fingers ran through the petals and grass, thinking of his woman. They rarely spent time alone. She always needed to start relations with some country in Orlais and he needed to keep all of Thedas safe and Corypheus at bay until they were finally ready to fight him head on. He imagined his fingers running through her silky dark hair and her soft body pressed against his. The thought faded as he gathered himself, knowing they would leave early tomorrow to the Western Approach yet again. The reports of darkspawn were alarming.

He picked a few flowers for the ambassador before leaving. He made sure he had something to brighten her day. Hollen knew she would appreciate them. Her eyes’d illuminate with a smile to match. He would dream later of that moment, except in his dreams he could embrace her for hours and nothing else in the world mattered.

On his way, he said good night to Varric and Cole. Varric seemed to take him under his wing to Cassandra and Vivienne’s dismay. But the dwarf was kind and warm to Cole, trying to help Cole get used to this strange world and more likable for the others. Hollen didn’t mind the spirit as long as he would help with the Inquisition. 

“Kid, tell him the joke I taught you earlier.”

Cole meekly looked up at Trevelyan. “Knock, knock.” Hollen looked at Varric quickly before answering. 

“Who’s there." 

"Boo." 

Varric’s eyes danced. They practiced all day it seemed for this one joke. "Boo who?” Hollen sighed, the flowers in his hand dropping petals on the ground. Cole hesitated, looking at Varric. 

“Don’t cry?”

“Good job kid. What did you think, Inquisitor?” Varric never looked prouder. “That was adorable.” Hollen replied, smiling at Cole. 

“Really?” The cold blue eyes chilled however. “One night. Just with her. I want to hold her, tell her I love her. Why don’t you?” Cole asked, staring at the dying flowers. “She’s busy.” The man said, wishing Cole didn’t read his mind out loud like this. It embarrassed him, though Varric didn’t care. “I think that’s enough, Kid. Hollen can handle that business himself. I think, however, that we can get in one more joke before the night’s done. We’ll try it on Iron Bull.”


	2. Rustic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giving the flowers to Josie.

Hollen opened the door, seeing the same scene of an exhausted Josephine reading letters from diplomats and nobles from all over Thedas. “Lady Montilyet.” He entered. She looked up half dazed before grinning cordially. “Inquisitor. What brings you here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready to leave?” He grinned, waving her worries away. “All taken care of.” 

“Then shouldn’t you be going bed?” He clicked his tongue, thinking of some inappropriate response but kept it inside.

“I wanted to see you.” 

She shook her head. “You have other duties to attend, more important than seeing me, Hollen.” It was the same old dance. “Anyway, since you’re here. An earl in Val Royeaux…” 

Hollen stopped listening. Why talk politics when he could talk about her beautiful brown honey eyes, the dark lashes framing them with her dark skin clear and glowing? She was poetry, a picture waiting to be painted. 

“Inquisitor. Inquisitor. Were you listening?” The flowers. He held them in front of him. They were a bit withered now, but maintained their original beauty. “No, I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” Her eyes stayed on the flowers. “For me? I-I don’t have a vase to keep them fresh.”

“When I was younger, my mother would press flowers in books. Maybe you could do that.”

“That’s so rustic.” The corners of her mouth moved upward slightly. How he wanted to kiss the corners before moving to her mouth… He flashed a toothy smile. “I guess so. Anyway. I should go to bed.” He placed the flowers on her desk. 

“Good night.” She picked up the bunch, with gingered care. “Do you have a book suggestion?” The shy ambassador asked, before he left. “Which ever book reminds you of me.” He responded, leaving, frustration building in his heart.


End file.
